


Adjusting

by Niler



Series: All Change [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niler/pseuds/Niler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was posted before, on the 25th of February.  I'm reposting in case I make reference to certain things in the coming chapter(s) of Party's Over :D</p><p>It Follows 'Missing' and precedes 'Movement'</p>
    </blockquote>





	Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted before, on the 25th of February. I'm reposting in case I make reference to certain things in the coming chapter(s) of Party's Over :D
> 
> It Follows 'Missing' and precedes 'Movement'

 

Adjusting

 

 

 

“Why am I so nervous? I shouldn’t be this nervous, should I?”

Since it appears Liam’s actually asking, he decides to answer this time.

“Babe, it’s been a while and you know how you get.” Neither of them are going to mention the obvious, but clearly Liam wants some type of reassurance that whatever happened over Christmas will have no detrimental effect on his ability to ‘give the show’. “The minute you step on to that stage it’ll be business as usual, and _no-one_ does the business like you do.” This – using that specific tone – never fails. It’s like there’s a specific synapse of Liam’s brain that automatically fires up on being exposed to it. Sometimes it leads to Liam showing his appreciation with a kiss, but more often than not, it’s even better than that where he’ll light up from the inside like a kid at Christmas.

Though Liam rarely says anything in response, often simply changes the subject, the point is that he gets it and if anything the lack of response is, in its own way, designed to let you know you’ve done your job.

“Love this place, I really do.” He’s gone over to the window, staring at the alien sky, alien because it’s not bright and sun-filled like the heated wonder of California nor marked with the immediately recognisable landscape that spells home. The sigh is heartfelt. “I always think I want to live here when I’m not here, but I dunno.” He turns to Zayn. “It’s sort of like home, but not. Know what I mean? Like, the people and the language they’re like us, but at the same time bloody crazily not!” He’s shaking his head as he resumes his contemplation of the view. “Madness.”

“Well at least the water’s always nice.” He’s being sarky and since the sarcasm pertains to water and Liam’s propensity to go crazy over water themed activities Liam has no trouble recognising that.

He turns very briefly, and his expression is mostly neutral, but Zayn can see the exasperation nibbling at the edges. “Not my idea.”

Zayn doesn’t reply.

No, it’s not Liam’s fault, but he is most definitely getting fed up of always being the one hidden away; the one who apparently has no social skills and not many friends either, well, who aren’t Asian and or related to him.

“You know why.” Liam isn’t looking at him, has his back turned and Zayn can see from his demeanour that his current mood is a little less guilty than bloody annoyed.

Damn. Well, might as well have it out since they were already there. “Last time, babe. Want this to be the last time we don’t spend Valentine’s Day together.”

Liam turns, leans against the window, and folds his arms. He still looks a little ticked off, but Zayn can’t quite work out what it is that’s riding him right now. “I don’t honestly know why I’m getting it in the neck over something you know fuck well I can’t help!”

“No, but you could put your foot down.” Like I did, is what he doesn’t actually say, but then, not exactly necessary, Liam gets the point.

There’s a sharp silence between them as their eyes meet and hold, but Zayn isn’t worried the way he sometimes used to be earlier in their relationship when he thought an argument meant Liam would end it or didn’t really love him.

When Liam shrugs and turns back to the window, Zayn, knowing Liam as well as he does, understands that it will be sorted.

And for all that that wasn’t his intent, hadn’t raised the issue with this outcome in mind, he can’t, in all honesty, say that he isn’t pleased it’s turned out this way.

He wants to thank him, but can tell that maybe giving Liam a little space might be a better option.

 

 

**

 

Harry’s changed. Definitely changed.

 _He_ saw it coming, and believes Niall did too. The one person it appears to have taken by surprise is Louis.

Harry has always been the odd one out, though. People like to see _him_ as odd man out – maybe subconsciously due to his heritage or his quietness in public – but he has more in common with the other guys than Harry _ever_ did.

Harry’s like Liam – consummately, unfailingly professional.

Zayn likes to think of himself as professional, but he knows he isn’t in the same class as either Liam or Harry who take it to a whole other level.

Occasionally, watching Liam go the extra ten miles for the band, for his craft, makes him feel like an ungrateful slug in comparison, but Liam doesn’t see it that way, doesn’t expect ( these days) other people to do as he does.

He simply does it because that’s how he’s made.

And Zayn’s sure that no matter how often and how fulsomely he expresses his pride in him Liam still doesn’t quite get it. He doesn’t see what he and Harry do as extraordinary, simply an intrinsic part of the job.

But Zayn’s bored by the life, wants instead to be at home – doing something else, on his own terms - but that’s not happening any time soon and he owes it to Liam to at least try to deal with it, _try_ to enjoy it.

He does enjoy it, just not as much as he thinks he should, and yes it feels like it may become a problem.

If he could be with Liam openly it wouldn’t grate so much, but as things stand, their time together is hedged in by dos and don’ts, which impacts pretty much everything.

He’d really like to see how it might feel to be on tour with them openly acknowledged as a couple, where they’d be meeting fans together – as a couple.

Well, one thing at least, maybe that might encourage some of these ‘fans’ to resist the urge to put their hands all over Liam. The number of times he’s had to stop himself actually giving the evil eye to some of these girls.

Liam has no idea he has real, genuinely obsessed fans, just thinks they like him because he’s ‘nice’.

Bollocks. They like him because they want to fuck him, and Zayn isn’t down for that, for _seeing_ that, for seeing that because they have no idea Liam’s his! Though he hasn’t explicitly said as much to Liam, a big part of the reason he wants things to change is to ensure he’ll never, ever again have to witness the greed on people’s faces when they look at Liam, hug Liam, kiss Liam. It’s like someone standing there and literally spiting in his face, and he is more than ready to put an end to that!

There are times when he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing here, in this life, embodying this persona. It’s very much as if his life split into two parallel universes the morning he woke up to go to that audition, where the _real_ him slept in that day, never actually made it.

He’s talked about it with Liam, but Liam isn’t as fanciful as he is, isn’t as melodramatic (though in some ways he’s more so) and only ever looks at him and says: ‘we’d always have ended up together, babe. One way or another, we’d have met.’

And yes, he believes that too, but a part of him – the melodramatic part – can’t help torturing itself with a variety of angst-filled scenarios including unknowingly passing each other in the street, or being in different groups for the audition and never actually running into each other, or eyes meeting as their trains travel in opposite directions...

It’s a deliciously agonising pastime, these flights of fancy, and, for some reason, indulging this way always seems to make him want Liam more.

Though Liam doesn’t ever say: ‘you been imagining stuff again?’ Zayn’s fairly sure he can tell by now. But then, that’s how they are now – no words needed, no justifications or interrogation. Now they simply accommodate each other, give the other whatever he might need.

Zayn just wishes he could always do that, _keep_ doing that minus all the measly compromises demanded by the life they’re currently living.

Newsflash: money definitely doesn’t make you happy. It helps to take care of your material needs, but as for the rest of it, no, he’d actually rather be less wealthy and a little freer.

His family and friends make him happy, and though it’s been an absolute privilege taking care of their material needs he still wishes things were different.

But he’s being selfish, only wising things were different so he can be with Liam openly.

If he could have that then the wealth issue wouldn’t _be_ an issue. Not that it’s an issue, exactly. No, _fame_ is the issue, the money secondary, really, so if he’s being strictly accurate it would probably be fair to say that his preferred option would be to have the money minus the cost.

Yeah, that’s it – the money comes at a price he really resents having to pay.

To think that in their younger days they’d all hoped for success, hoped to someday make records, maybe sing in front of an audience or two.

Well, all he can say is: better be really bloody careful what you wish for.

if they had to do it over, he knows damn well that this time they’d take a great deal of care in making those wishes.

For now, though, they’re stuck with it.

And none of them are really happy.

 

**

 

Liam’s not well. He’s trying to hide it – as he always does – but since Zayn knows him, can tell when he’s under par.

Though Liam won’t admit it, Zayn knows it’s the stress of being back on tour – or rather back on the wire, back under the microscope. It tends to affect him more than anyone, because he cares too much that people may have reason not to like him. He knows intellectually that people are just assholes and that a good portion of them simply hate for the sake of hating, but Liam’s the type to somehow think that there must be a _reason_ why people don’t warm to you and since the fault lies with you, it’s therefore down to _you_ to fix it.

You can tell a person the opposite till you’re blue in the face, and though they seem to buy it, since you know and they know it makes sense, the part of them that doesn’t deal in logic continues to send them a different, rather more insistent message, and you haven’t yet found a way to counter this.

So Liam’s sick and it’s up to _him_ to keep him on a level for as long as he’s _allowed_ to.

Still will not accept that he’d be prevented from looking after Liam the way he wants to all for the sake of the ‘plan’.

Fuck the plan! He spent most of December and January looking after him and the fact that they are working now isn’t going to change a damn thing.

They can just go fuck themselves.

But at least they know fucking better than to ever again try to imply that Sophia is the one looking after him.

They know damn well that should they ever, to his face, insult him like that then he’ll fuck up every single plan they might have in place – or waiting in the wings.

Doesn’t know exactly _how_ , just knows he’d do it without hesitation.

They’ve learned now that there are certain lines you simply do not cross.

He intends to show them that the lines they can no longer cross have now become _legion_.

Time to wind this shit right down.

And then maybe Liam will stop paying the price for being with him, for falling in love with him.

Sometimes, sometimes he seriously fucking hates his life.

 

 

**

 

The first concerts go really well, and he’s reminded just how much he’ll miss this when it comes time to let it go.

He’ll adjust of course, you always do, but there really is nothing at all like this –nothing – and it’s important not to lose sight of that in the headlong rush to ditch things just because there are parts of your life that reek.

Life, though, is all about compromise, about never quite having it all – even if, from the outside looking in, it must appear that you’ve hit the jackpot.

In many ways he has indeed hit the jackpot, but the jackpot he feels he’s hit lies more in the friendships and relationships he’s made and knows he’ll never lose.

Even if he lost all the money, became a nonentity overnight he’d still have his mates, still have Liam, and that, in the end, is all he really needs.

Liam’s on a high right now, but Zayn knows that at some point that night he’ll come down and start _thinking_.

His job is to ensure that he doesn’t spend too long doing that, to distract him; set his mind on a different track.

 

**

 

“I have _no_ idea why. Why do _you_ think it is?”

Liam shrugs, arms folded behind his head.

Zayn _considers_ resisting the urge to run his hand down his chest, before wondering why the hell he’d do something that stupid.

Liam’s covered in a light film of sweat – just the way he likes - and his fingers start to amuse themselves; running through his chest hair, lower, to the hair on his belly, lower to the hair just above his groin. “I dunno, maybe because we’re just used to girls?”

His belly’s rising and falling in keeping with his elevated pulse and Zayn’s fingers are in love, their sensitive tips thrilling to this hypnotic cadence. “Hmm,” he says, completely distracted.

“Oi! Behave.” Liam’s tone is admonishing, but he has not moved a muscle to stop him or indicate he objects.

Glancing up, Zayn sees that his eyes are closed and he has a smile on his face.

This smile is, by anyone’s reckoning, a pretty smug, fucking smile.

Zayn tugs sharply on his pubic hair and grins when Liam’s eyes snap open. “Ow! Careful.”

“Oh, sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Fuck off,” he says, moving his groin in a ‘shaking off a pest’ gesture.

Zayn isn’t shaken off. “No, sorry, look,” He leans his head, “Let me kiss it better.” He places his lips against Liam’s skin, an eye on Liam’s face.   There ya go; predictable as the sun rise. “Better? Am I forgiven?”

“This time. Come here.” He traps Zayn’s hips in a pincer movement and uses his legs to bring him closer, on top of him, closer to his mouth. “You’re a tricky little bastard, aren’t you?” Zayn will answer – once he regains the use of his mouth. Didn’t sound like it was rhetorical, but in any event, the answer will be the same as it always is.

Doesn’t think Liam will mind too much, though.

 

 

**

 

“You’d have thought, though, that cos we got sisters we’d want boys.” They do this a lot - continue the conversations they left hanging, picking up from wherever they left off - so much so it’s become routine.

Liam shrugs, takes a drag of the cigarette before handing it to him. “I know, and in a way I do – playing footy and all that – but for some reason it’s always a little girl I think of when I see us with kids.”

“Yeah.”

It’s not exactly a touchy subject, they both like kids, it’s just that _he’s_ a lot keener to make it a reality than Liam appears to be, and whenever they talk it feels like they’re on different sections of the continuum, where he’s talking with a view to the future, almost designing it, while he can’t help feeling that with Liam it’s still very much theoretical.

No matter; they’ll find a compromise the way they always do, and as far as he’s concerned it’s up to _him_ to wait until Liam’s ready. No way any child of theirs is coming into the world without being assured of being absolutely loved and wanted.

When Liam’s ready, they’ll go there.

“I’d like a girl first and then a boy. How about that?”

Liam laughs. “Zayn, if we could actually design stuff that way someone somewhere would be making an absolute fucking fortune.” He gives him a condescending pat. “We’ll just have to take it as it comes.”

“Not ordering coffee or tea, babe.”

“No? I dunno, I’ve always seen kids as varieties of beverages.”

“Now that wouldn’t actually surprise me.” They exchange a series of teasingly affectionate little kisses, the cigarette forgotten in his fingers until Liam takes it from him and inhales. “Still wanna call her Taylor?”

“Maybe as a middle name.”

“I’d love to give her an Arabic name, you know something that means something.”

Liam hands him the cigarette, the smoke billowing from his nose. “So we are definitely having our kids mixed race.”

“Well, yeah. It’s who we are, isn’t it?”

Liam’s looking thoughtful, and doesn’t answer at once.

Zayn watches him, dragging on the cigarette as he examines Liam’s face.

His hair’s in disarray, the way Zayn loves to see it, and he’s flushed across the chest and cheeks, his mouth an inviting deep pink. His eyes, his eyes are, as always, mellow and sensual after sex, and Zayn often finds himself wondering if part of his unquenchable thirst for Liam lies in the way that no matter what he can always somehow see that look, almost as if it’s burned on the inside of his retinas. Must be something to this since it would certainly explain his frequent and frequently very _inconvenient_ spikes of arousal whenever he forgets himself and allows his eyes – and mind – to feast on him.

His kiss surprises Liam, but his expression prevents him making light of it, silences him completely.

Zayn doesn’t _know_ what it’s like to be like this with anyone else, cannot imagine it with anyone else.

If they were ever to break up he knows that whoever comes after Liam would get maybe a third of him – if they were lucky – would always, always fall short.

If, for whatever reason, things end with Liam he is damn sure he’d still fail to find anyone to match him, to _fit_ him the way Liam does.

Zayn’s aware that there seems to be a belief that relationships are a progression; that each subsequent relationship is a step higher on that ladder of progression, so that eventually you inevitably find the one that suits you best. But what if sometimes it’s a case of finding the one that is the life changing one, the one that sets all your molecules alight and the ones after – if there should be any such thing – are all about adjusting to something else, something _ordinary_ , learning a sort of discipline where you discover that life is often mundane, cruel and disappointing, but that you carry on anyway because part of living is learning how to make the best of absolutely everything?

All he knows for sure is that he cannot begin to imagine that there’d be better than what he has with Liam.

It’s so much more than sex, more than affection, friendship. It’s about what Liam, what loving Liam tells him about himself, what it tells him about who he is, and he knows that that’s priceless, irreplaceable, in his opinion unable to be duplicated by anyone or anything.

Some things really are once in a lifetime.

“What? You don’t want that?” It’s not a serious question; why wouldn’t Liam want that? But he’s thinking and that has to mean that he’s not entirely sold – for some reason.

Liam shrugs – just an abbreviated lift of the shoulder. “It’s nothing. I suppose it just got a bit real. Know what I mean?”

“Babe, we got years yet.”

“Dont wanna be an OAP by the time she’s in college! How am I gonna intimidate her boyfriends if I’m shuffling around in one of them walkers?”

Zayn laughs, kisses the frown from his mouth. “Joker. We can start in about 5 years or so. Cool?” And he knows this will work – Liam likes to have dates and things set in stone, he’s funny like that.

“Yeah, alright, and Zayn, you know we can get artificial insemination, right? No need to actually have sex with anyone.”

Zayn frowns. Is that what he was worried about? “You’re a right plonker, you know that?”

“What? It’s the easiest way.”

“Not for us – not an option.” And he knows his voice has developed an edge, but Liam knows by now how he gets at the thought of him with other people. “Test tube or nothing.”

“Oohh kinky,” he giggles.

“Seriously?”

Liam laughs, the look in his eyes saying ‘I’m ready to play. How bout you?’ and for a millisecond Zayn considers surprising him – no _astonishing_ him – by not taking him up on his silent offer, but he’d have to be a far better actor than he currently is to have any hope of pulling that one off.

Pretty obvious that the look in _his_ eye has told Liam all he needs to know.

One day, one day soon he will be able to do that astonish him thing.

 

 

**

 

Here’s the thing – if your man spends a good part of the day drinking and smoking, listening to music – partying with the woman who everyone thinks he’s fucking then you’re going to get him in bed that night and fuck his brains out – just to make it clear as fuck who he _actually_ belongs to.

And it doesn’t help... well, maybe revise that a little... if said man does everything in his power to provoke you to the point that you literally throw him on the bed and seriously consider tying him to it, except there’s no easy way of doing so, and you wait so long _looking_ for a way that he throws _you_ , because he’s stronger, and you end up fighting because you’re fired up and he’s fired up by you being fired up and all the fucking you’d fully planned to keep in reserve for Valentines’ day goes on this instead...

No, that really wasn’t some of the best fucking they have _ever_ done.

Not at all.

Well, apparently Sophia has her uses.

Sooner she’s gone from their lives the better, but no, she definitely has her uses.

 

 

**

 

“Seriously, Azzi? Seriously?” Louis’ shaking his head.

“What?”

“’What’, he says, like he doesn’t have the biggest fucking lovebite on his- Jesus I can see literal teeth there, man. Did he _eat_ it? Literally?”

Zayn gives a disinterested shrug, carries on sketching. Louis will talk and talk but if you don’t respond he will eventually leave you alone. You just have to learn how to handle him.

Liam doesn’t do what he does because _he_ can’t fucking shut up either...

“We could hear you clear to new Zealand!”

“Yeah, right. We had _music_ on.”

“Aha.” he crows triumphantly. “Everyone knows you’re going hard when you sling the Usher on, Az. Oh god, you thought we didn’t know?”

“Fuck off.”

“The whole fucking hotel knows you were fucking.”

“Right.”

Louis, amused by himself, settles in for a round of mockery.

Zayn lets him, effortlessly shuts him out...

 

**

 

Paddy tries to be far, far away whenever he and Liam are together. According to him: ‘one minute I’m there minding me own business, catching up on me Facebook page and the next I look round and someone’s got his tongue halfway down someone else’s throat, and I don’t know where to put meself. Bit of warning guys’.

Liam had answered: “What, like a klaxon or a hooter or something, mate?”

“That would help.”

Well there’s no klaxon or hooter, but now whenever they’re together he makes himself scarce.

He knows Liam feels safe with Zayn and is therefore okay leaving his charge in Zayn’s hands.

Took Zayn a little while to adjust to Paddy’s presence, but what swung it was the fact that he knows that Liam couldn’t be in safer hands and that is the thing that matters most taken care so he is happy to accommodate him in their lives.

Sometimes he feels jealous and possessive at the way Paddy is always there, always with Liam, but that’s just him being selfish again.

He is more grateful than he can possibly express that Liam has Paddy at his side, willing to lay himself on the line to keep him safe.

This makes Paddy one of the most important people in his life, so any childish selfish jealousy can just go fuck itself.

 

 

**

 

It’s actually _amusing_ the way they conspire to ensure he and Sophia never meet.

He has no idea what she thinks of him – she’s the kind of two-faced type who’ll smile in your face and you’d never know what she really thinks of you. Having been around people in this industry for a little while he knows that this is the norm, and really, it’s why Liam has such a hard time, still struggling to adjust to the fact that the world – and its people – are just as nasty as he imagined them to be when he was being given such a hard time at school.  He seems intent on holding out on fully accepting it, however, probably figuring that once he does life would take a 180 degree toward the utterly meaningless.

Zayn gets it, but he’s tougher, has never seen the world as particularly benign, so the adjustment for him is not so great.

People like Sophia are somewhat mercenary in their outlook, and since he isn’t obliged to hang with her he chooses to pretend she doesn’t exist rather than find himself made to play the ‘we hate each other, but let’s pretend for the cameras or onlookers’ game.

Still, it’s not the same thing as it was with Danielle. He had many, many reasons for his hatred of her – not all of them legitimate or even particularly fair – but there’s only one reason he doesn’t like Sophia.

He simply doesn’t like her – as a person.

Disliking her because of what she represents comes a little further down the list.

Eleanor he likes, and yes of course it’s easier since she isn’t the one pretending to be with Liam, but he can think of a hundred other women – well, maybe that’s taking it a little far – he can think of a couple. _Maybe_. One or two? Well there are – has to be - people who he’d actually like. Still wouldn’t appreciate them all over Liam, or everyone putting _them_ in his place, but that’s a separate thing; it wouldn’t be because they weren’t his kinda people.

Sophia is most assuredly not his kind of people and that’s a big part of the stress Liam’s been feeling, because she’s not exactly his kind of people either.

He knows they get on a little better now than they did at first, but incompatibility will always be what it is and besides, Liam’s simply tired of the game, so can’t even truly find his game face anymore, the one required to stomach being with her, as they both play the game.

Zayn, on a rational level knows she’s not to blame for any of it – except the part where she’s a mercenary bitch, who’s fake as hell, who, had she been a legit friend to Liam would have made this whole painful charade a deal _less_ so.

The fact that it’s her character that’s made the deal so sour means that he does indeed fucking blame her.

He also blames her for not being able to go tonto on her ass. Liam minds when he does that shit, not for her sake, but because it stresses him to see Zayn annoyed or disdainful, desperately wants him to be okay with it, okay enough to be okay.

The fact that Zayn is not okay causes him stress, makes doing his job a thousand times more difficult, which then causes further stress.

So, really, the sooner Sophia gets her marching orders the better off they’ll all be.

If he gets the opening he’s going to get a dig in (maybe on Twitter) about having Liam for Valentine’s day.

Yes, of course it’s childishly uncalled for, not like Sophia even wants Liam, has any interest in him at all (except the size of his wallet of course), but he likes to mark his territory , takes any given excuse to do just that.

Yes, he’s a prat, who can, apparently start a turf war all by himself, in any empty room, but really, who gives a fuck?

 

 

**

 

He’s bought Liam something for Valentine’s day, but it’s at home. He sorted it before he left for LA, will surprise him with it when they get back, but he can’t come to the party empty handed, can he, has to give him a _token_ at least.

Liam’s a practical guy, not one for jewellery or anything, and Zayn _could_ buy him another watch, but he has something a little more creative in mind.

He wakes first – makes a point of it – and sneaks off to the bathroom where he has a quick shower.

It’s funny this feeling; nerves, coupled with excitement, coupled with arousal, also funny being the one awake while Liam slumbers.

Watching him sleep, Zayn feels a sense of overwhelm, not sure how to continue _containing_ this love, how he’s managed it thus far.

Were his love to take form it would be a colossus astride the entire earth, treading mountains into dust, oceans become mere puddles.

At times he fears for Liam, fears that he’ll get swept away by the strength of the love Zayn has for him, but from what he’s learned, from what he’s heard whispered in his ear, felt carved on his heart Liam couldn’t possibly begin to get used to the love, has room for much, much more.

He crawls back into bed, snuggles into him, reaching for Liam’s hand, fingers twining with his. “Love you, babe. Happy Valentines.”

“Hmm.”

Zayn nips his ear. “You awake?”

“No.”

Zayn smiles, proceeds to gently, carefully wake him up.

“Time is it?” Liam says eventually, voice still rough around the edges.

“Time you got your pressie.”

“Oh aye?”

“Aye.”

“Is it a lie back and enjoy it kinda pressie?”

“Well...”

“Here.” He turns and pulls Zayn on top of him. His eyes are so sexy like this – aroused, but sleepy. “Give.”

“Er, ask nicely.”

“Give. Please.” He’s laughing and when Zayn kisses him, doesn’t stop.

“Remember that emerald thing we saw that time?”

“Oh my god, you didn’t!” He unceremoniously lifts Zayn off him, and sets him on his back, scrambling to his knees as he tries to examine his midriff. “Oh you are fucking kidding me!” His eyes when he looks up at Zayn are far from sleepy.

“Like it?”

“You are fucking joking, aren’t you? Wow, that is one hell of a turn on, Zayn. Seriously.” So saying, he bends his head and runs his tongue over the jewel nestled in Zayn’s navel. “God, it even tastes good.”

“You fucking joker!” But he’s barely able to contain his delight. He knew he’d like it, but to witness it in the raw, witness the way Zayn’s gesture ramps up his arousal from maybe 7 all the way to 11. “You like it then.”

“Fuck,” he says, kissing Zayn’s belly.

Smiling, Zayn twines his hand in Liam’s hair. “Look.”

“Hmm?”

Zayn gives a gentle tug, getting his attention – for a while at least, but a while is all he needs.

He lifts his foot, rubs his toe against the outside of Liam’s ribs.

“Wha-?” Liam turns, takes hold of his ankle, adjusts his position the better to examine his foot. “Wow! That’s just. Wow!”

“It’s for you.”

“What?”

Giggling, Zayn lifts his foot, slips the ring off, holds it between his fingers. “Yours.”

“You’ve lost it, mate.” But he’s taking it, turning it over between his fingers. “Wow! Does it have an inscription?”

“Yeah – **mine**.”

Liam doesn’t even glance at him. “You sure it’s gonna fit my big old toe?”

“It’s made for your big old toe, so yeah.” Suddenly impatient. “Will you stop faffing about and put the fucking thing on!”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

Zayn doesn’t ask nicely, Zayn takes the ring, pulls Liam to him, kisses him deep, wet, dirty and when he’s recovering, puts him on his back and makes his way down, leaving a trail of kisses until he gets to his foot. “Left.”

“You’re in charge, babe.” His voice is rough, a little faint.

Smug, satisfied, Zayn takes hold of Liam’s left foot and slips the thin silver band on the toe next to his little toe. “There, now you’re mine.”

“For real? Thought that had happened a while ago. Is this some Arabic custom I’ve never heard of?”

“Not saying it is, not saying it isn’t.” He fits his lips around Liam’s toe, feeling the tang of cold metal on his tongue. “That’s nice,” he tells him.

“You’re telling me! Do that some more.”

And since Liam asked so nicely he does.

 

 

**

 

“How the fuck am I meant to wear my trainers, though?”

“You’ll find a way,” he says with confidence. Judging by the way Liam can’t stop looking at his toe, it’d take a fucking army to get him to take the bloody thing off!

Liam, still examining the ring on his toe, says nothing to contradict this, and Zayn smiles to himself. They’ve got most of the day to themselves and it’s possible that they might spend a good portion of their time in bed playing with their new toys. Well _his_ new toys...

“Babe, can you pass me that little towel in the top drawer?”

“Okay.” He reaches across and opens the drawer. It’s empty except for a deep purple jewellery box. He glances across at Liam, but Liam’s still admiring his toe. “Bro, there’s no towel.”

“You sure? I’m absolutely positive I put _something_ in there.”

“This, you mean?” He lifts out the box.

Liam glances up at it without interest. “Oh right. Must have put the towel in the other drawer.”

Zayn stares at him, waiting for his next move.

Liam continues to play with his toe ring.

“Come on, man!”

Liam pulls off disingenuous very, very well. Too well. “What? What’s up?”

Exasperated, and hating himself for it, Zayn impatiently opens the box. It’s the bracelet he’d admired last year when they’d been on tour in new York. Hadn’t said that much, just that it was sick, and honestly hadn’t expected Liam to remember, he certainly hadn’t made a fuss at the time, and Zayn would have expected if he’d been going to do anything that it’d be at Christmas or his birthday.

So fucking typical of him to do this, to make it a Valentine’s present when Zayn hadn’t really been expecting anything at all.

“Love you,” he says quietly, confident that Liam will have no difficulty hearing all the things he’s _not_ saying.

“Is that why you’re just sitting there?”

“Oh, sorry. Thanks, babe.” He fits himself into Liam’s arms, snuggling into his side, smiling so hard he fears his face will crack.

“Er, I meant put the bloody thing on, man. God, you are hopeless!” Reaching for the box lying open on the sheet, Liam takes out the golden bracelet and slips it onto Zayn’s wrist. “See? Knew it would fit.”

“Yeah.” He holds it up to catch the light, aware that later on tonight he’s going to spend time examining each facet in minute detail.

Liam knows this, knows what he’s like, which is probably why he chose to buy this one rather than any of the other jewellery he’s admired over the years.

“Beautiful.”

“I know. It’s even better than it looked in the catalogue.”

“I wasn’t talking about the bangle.”

And Zayn forgives him for the bangle, because when you have a man look at you like that how could you not?

“This means a lot, babe.”

“I know. This does too.” He lifts his leg briefly before settling down at Zayn’s side once more. “I like knowing I’m wearing your ring.”

“Me too.” He holds his arm up. “And I promise you, babe, that soon it’s going to be for real.”

“I know.” Liam kisses him softly on the mouth. “I know.”

And kisses him again.

Another vow made, another vow they’ll go to the ends of the earth to keep.


End file.
